


amore mio

by halfasgoodatanything



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (kinda), Adorable Tony Stark, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Clint Barton & Tony Stark Friendship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Italian Tony Stark, Jealous Steve, Jealous Steve Rogers, M/M, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, Oblivious Tony Stark, Pining Steve Rogers, Team as Family, Tony Stark & Thor Friendship, Tony Stark Feels, Tony likes touching ppl he loves and steve >:(, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touchy-Feely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 19:21:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18482737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfasgoodatanything/pseuds/halfasgoodatanything
Summary: tony is touchy and affectionate with others, and steve wants him to just love him. and love him in the way he loves him.





	amore mio

**Author's Note:**

  * For [natashalieromanov](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natashalieromanov/gifts), [itsallAvengers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsallAvengers/gifts).



By the time he realizes he’s in love with Tony, it is already torture.

It strikes him one morning, when Tony is still in his workshop clothes, a grease stain across an MIT sweatshirt that he’s not sure how he still fits into, and he smiles.

Thinking Tony was beautiful is not an unusual thought. He’s an objectively handsome man; he knew it even when he was cocky and rude and reminding him of Bucky that made pain radiate like he’s swallowed a grenade.

Tony is a beautiful man, objectively. Dark brown eyes an a smile filled with warm mirth. Steve isn’t blind.

But it _strikes_ him, this morning, when he’s made Tony coffee, the way he likes it, that Tony coming up from the workshop and smiling at him and Bruce, that Steve thinks it.

Tony smiles, a quick quirk of the lips, casual like it’s nothing, but his brown eyes blazing the way he always is, burning and warm an affectionate and _good,_ and reaches for the cup of coffee, about to thank him for the cup, and Steve is in love with him.

It’s a hell of a realization.

He doesn’t get to linger on it, though, because Bruce sitting next to him- Tony _kisses_ his _cheek._

“Thanks for the coffee darling, I could kiss you,” Tony smiles, bright as hell, then winks. Tony is always affectionate with people, and Steve knows it would be silly to point out that _he_ made that coffee, that _he_ knew that Tony had stayed up all night, made it just the way he liked and waited so _he_ could drink it with him.

Tony never gives _him_ cheek kisses when he makes him coffee.

“Actually, I-“

“I have to go sign some things, get that Hulk Suit finalized, thanks babe.”

The words _babe_ and _darling,_ ring in Steve’s ear. A million scenarios flip through Steve’s mind. Warm Tony in bed, pine cologne mixed with rose scented hand lotion scent all over him, _darling_ whispered into his ear, _babe_ said casually over coffee and mission reports, a kind of love that doesn’t need proof, just makes itself present.

Tony smiles and walks off, and takes Steve’s fantasies with him. And for some reason, Bruce sipping tea makes him a ridiculous kind of anger.

_Darling. Babe._

This might be a problem.

* * *

Natasha and Tony have an odd sort of fondness between them. Nat’s love is kind of quiet, warm and good, like a hum you have to let there be quiet to here.

Steve was sitting near her, on a Sunday afternoon, something like leisure in the air, rare in their home. Tony came in to watch something on the TV, carrying a bowl of popcorn and a mug of coffee, humming what Steve thinks might be _The Star Spangled Man With A Plan._

It’s so simple, the steaming cup of coffee, Natasha reading with glasses on, Tony humming _that-_

Steve’s home, with the people he loves. It’s been a long time.

Steve’s about to smile at Tony, when Natasha lifts her legs, laying them back down when he sits, throwing him a soft smile, a rare thing for Nat, and Tony smiles back at her, and it’s not even unusual, what he says back.

“You have _all_ my love, darling.”

She laughs, and Tony smiles back at her, and that’s so like him, a dramatic silly thank you for letting him watch TV with her legs up.

 _Darling_ sounds so sweet coming out of Tony’s mouth, so sweet and full of light, jovial and full of love, he _wants_ something that, wants to be the one with his legs laid over Tony’s lap, and he wants- he _wants,_ and it’s not a kind of annoyance he’s felt before. It’s an ugly feeling, that sort of jealousy. But god, Tony said he _loves_ her.

Steve continues sketching a preliminary suit he’d seen in the workshop once, and tries to get the bitter taste out of his mouth.

* * *

Clint isn’t much on touching, but Tony is, and Clint had accepted it early on.

Clint and him were about to spar one afternoon, when Steve saw Tony walk in the gym, smiling wide at the two of them. Steve was well versed in Tony’s looks, and this one is _I’ve just made you something and you’ll love it._

Steve smiles back, but it’s clear it’s for Clint, and that’s fine. It’s fine.

“The exploding tips are done! It took some doing, but they’re portable, and you should be fine.”

“Thanks man, took you long enough-“

“Is that how you thank me? I’m hurt, _amore mio_.”

_My love, my love, my love-_

Italian is so good in Tony’s voice, pure and sweet and Steve, he _loves_ it, just adores how his voice slips a little into an accent. It’s like wine, sweet and mulled and Steve wants Tony to call him _amore_ _mio,_ wants to see that smile for _him._

Tony’s walked away, still smiling, and Steve’s broken the dumbbell he was holding.

Clint smirks at him, and Steve doesn’t think he’s seen all that obvious about loving Tony, but maybe he was. It’s not like he can help it.

* * *

Thor is what really gets to him.

Steve knows that Tony loves him, even if it’s not the way he wants. Tony’s heart is so _good,_ and it was hard to tell the difference between gratitude and love when he first realized the amount of affection he has for Tony.

He’s a good man, the best Steve knows. He can’t count the amount of times he’s saved his life.

The thing is, when he thinks of the man he was when he woke up from the ice. He remembers those first few months, living in the tower, a ghost in a world where he didn’t long. Then, one day, Tony had left a set of art supplies in his room, too expensive to even _touch_ if he wasn’t in the here and now.

Pastels, colored pencils, pigments and brushes and everything else- _everything_ he’d wanted to work with before the war, when he was a man, not a soldier.

He didn’t have anything to thank him with, so he hung around Dum-E, and drew him handing Tony a smoothie, and gave it to Tony.

For a second, he’d thought it was a misfire. A stupid idea, what was a billionaire have with a drawing-

And then Tony had breathed in, and clutched it to his chest (it was wrinkling) and said, “I love it. Thank you.”

And it had all been downhill from then, really.

He’d fallen in love.

Thor comes home late on a Thursday, and this time there’s no preface for Steve walking into it. There’s Tony, laying on Thor’s chest, tired and _beautiful,_ and Steve- Steve wants to be there so badly, wants to run his hands through his curls, wants to be close enough to kiss his forehead and have Tony take all of his tenderness.

“Steve! Watch the movie with us. It’s stupid, I need someone who agrees with me,” Tony laughs.

“Stark is wrong, you will clearly see if you watch with us.” Thor says, his eyes fixed on the television.

“Thor, babe, this is so stupid-“

Steve walks to his room without saying anything, and it’s shitty and childish but he can’t really deal with this. He can’t.

* * *

 

An hour later, Steve hears a knock on his door. It’s all so melodramatic, stupid and silly and he should get over it, but he wants to yell whoever is there to _leave-_

It’s Tony, though, so he walks in, sheepishly and says his name, and Steve selfishly loves how Tony’s whole attention is on _him,_ now. He needs to get over this. Tony is allowed to love other people. For gods sake, he can be in love with anyone else.

God, it hurts his heart, but he can.

“Steve?” Tony asks, standing by the edge of the bed where Steve sits up to meet his eye, and then Tony touches him, brushing a hand against Steve’s arm, concern etched on his face.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” he says, honest, because when Tony’s with him, looking at him, touching him, it’s fine. Everything’s great.

“You sure? When I’ve been around the team you’ve kind of …retreated, and I wanted to know if there’s anything I’ve done, or…” he trailed off.

His stomach stirs. Tony, of course Tony thought he’d been upset. He left the room every time he showed affection to someone. How in the hell is Steve supposed to say _call me love, call me darling, only_ ** _me._**

“I know I can be a lot, real affectionate, but I’ve tried to avoid doing that to you lately, I really have-“

“I think that’s the problem, Tony,” Steve says, and on impulse lifts Tony’s hand to his own cheek, tender affection on both hands, “I like it when you’re affectionate to me.”

“You do?”

Steve shifts so he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, where Tony stands in the gap between his legs, too close for friends having a spat, and Tony’s hand still on his cheek.

It’s too much to take, but Steve wants it, he does.

“I always want you to touch me, to be around me, and it- it sometimes drives me a little crazy when you don’t. When you touch other people. When you call other people things you should call me.”

“Things you should call me?”

“Darling, babe, love, _amore mio_ ,” Steve says, closing his eyes, just for a second. Tony smells like pine and like amber, and he breathes out _want. “_ Should call _me_ that.”

It’s awfully indulgent, Tony holding him like this, confessing like this.

“Should is a strong word,” Tony says, softly, but his hand is still on Steve’s cheek and Steve leans into it, trained fingers sweet on his face. He wants Tony to always be touching him.

“Should is how I feel,” and just as he was enjoying it, Tony moved his hand away from Steve, only to put both hands around his neck. It’s a wonderful feeling.

“Then I will,” Tony says, and Tony is _holding_ him, loving _him,_ and its still a surprise when he says that.

“Mhm.”

“ _Amore mio_ ,” Tony’s voice is like expensive whiskey, beautiful and rich like his eyes that look at Steve, and a part of Steve that has been missing since 1940 feels whole again, “Would it be okay if I kissed you?”

“Darling,” Steve replies, and Tony’s smile is a lovely starburst, “I think it would.”

When Tony kisses him, he tastes like love in the purest form, indulgent and warm with fingers tracing through his hair, warm and _his,_ Tony in _his_ arms, _his_ love.

“ _Amore mio,”_ Tony whispers into his embrace, and Steve pulls him closer, because he’s right.

_My love._

 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @irndad !!


End file.
